


Wrapped Up With a Bow

by stickyrice



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 12 Days of Christmas Challenge, F/M, Fluff, Mollcroft, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 11:05:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5414471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stickyrice/pseuds/stickyrice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some of Molly's favourite things: gifts all tied up with string.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrapped Up With a Bow

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [Wetislandinthenorthatlantic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wetislandinthenorthatlantic/pseuds/Wetislandinthenorthatlantic) in the [12_days_of_mollcroft_2015](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/12_days_of_mollcroft_2015) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
> Day 5 - 5 Gold Rings

Ever since Sherlock’s return, he has tried to keep his distance; reasoning that they only because better acquainted, and eventually friends because of their mutual knowledge of Sherlock’s not-death and, for a lack of better words (because he would never admit to it), loneliness that his absences made in their lives. Now that his brother had returned, there was no need for his presence in her life anymore; loath he was to admit it, but what would she need him for, now that Sherlock was back.

With a sigh he looked at the calendar that sat at the edge of his desk, the glaring reminder that Christmas was nearing and he would be spending it alone. No Molly to force him to wear that ridiculous paper hat from the Christmas crackers; no Molly to bring the sound of carols into his otherwise quiet home; no Molly to share a small smile or a warm look with; all in all no Molly.

Sparing one last thought to one of the best Christmas’ he’d had since he was a little boy, he pushed the feelings of nostalgia down and once again let the sounds of his pen scratching across paper fill his office once more.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

She was sat at her computer, trying to focus on the reports that glared back at her from her computer screen. However, she couldn’t find the peace and quiet that she needed to be able to focus on the task in front of her because of the inane, insistent chattering that was coming from beside her. He just kept talking, be it to himself or to her she wasn’t quite sure, but it didn’t matter, he barely stops to take a breath from one sentence to another.

She already knew he was brilliant, why he felt the need with the constant chatter to prove it was beyond her; and to think that she had once found this, his showboating, to be sexy and attractive was now unthinkable.

Now give her someone who exuded a quiet, confident brilliance; someone who was both steel and warmth; someone... someone like ... Mycroft, she thought, a small smile quirking her lips briefly until she once again acutely felt a loneliness deep within her heat at his recent and prolonged absence from her life.  

With a soft sigh, she put her ear buds in and tried to tune out the chatter beside her, wishing once more for the quiet comfort of silence that had grown between her and her government man.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What are you doing!?" John exclaimed in surprise as he came fully into the flat, seeing his ex-flatmate standing over the prone form of his brother, putting the finishing touches to a large, bright ribbon that not only gave off a very festive touch, but also bound the unconscious man.  
  
Sherlock threw a board look over his shoulder, as if to say 'isn't it obvious'.  
  
John gave an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of s nose to try and stem the headache that he knew was soon to follow, once his friend explained what was going on. Mycroft Holmes might not be his favourite person, what with all the kidnappings and general invasion of privacy, but he did know that he was a very powerful man and that it was best to stay on his good side, or at least not do anything to actively piss him off.  
  
"Words Sherlock"  
  
With a roll of his eyes, as if having to explain was beneath him, Sherlock finally turned to John, gesturing to the prone form of his brother banded and bound by 5 golden rings of festive rope all down his torso.  
  
"I'm, as they say, killing 2 birds with one stone" he drawled as he admired his handy work.  
  
If it was possible, John looked at him even more perplexed.  
  
"Okay" he said, drawing out the word to convey his confusion.  
  
"This" he said gesturing to his brother "is for her. God knows why, but if this is what will make her happy than this is what she will have"  
  
"Excuse me, but who exactly?" He asked as his eyes scrunched up and he shook his head not comprehending.  
  
"Molly Hooper, John! You know the pathologist at Bart's" he exclaimed in exasperation, frustration creeping into his voice at having to explain the obvious.  
  
"I know who Molly Hooper is! But what does this have to do with making Molly happy" he asked, not being able to connect the dots.  
  
"Because for reasons unknown, she has gone and fallen in love with my dear brother, ergo delivering him to her as a Christmas gift" he said slowly  
  
Letting out a long breath, he rolled his eyes to the heavens, praying for strength. "It doesn't work at way Sherlock, there has to be mutual attraction and you know, something called free will. You can't expect this," he said, gesturing to the unconscious man, "to go well do you, he will be absolutely furious, I.e. Last year"  
  
Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Although Sherlock stood closer to door, he made no move towards it. John, being use to his theatrics went willingly to answer the door. To his surprise, it was none other than Mycroft's PA.  
  
Swallowing thickly he greeted her nervously, his mind flying to various torture methods that she could employ on behalf of her boss.  
  
"Hello Anthea, what do we owe the pleasure of your visit today" he asked nervously, his body blocking the view into the room.  
  
"Oh do move aside John" Sherlock interrupted.  
  
"Doctor Watson" she said with a nod of her head in greeting as she slid past him.  
  
"Dr. Hooper will be occupied for the next 15 minutes so we have approximately 18 until she returns home" she said, her eyes barely leaving her phone in her hand.  
  
"You're in on this too?!" John exclaimed in surprise.  
  
Anthea gave him a brief look above her phone, "I do everything that Mr. Holmes needs to be done, including the things that he doesn't even now he needs" she replied.  
  
"Right" John said, eyes wide with disbelief.  
  
"Right, John grab and end" Sherlock said indicating Mycroft's feet.  
  
"What?! No, I will not be a part of this!" He exclaimed looking between the pair, who just looked back with a board look, knowing that he would cave sooner rather than later, and that if they could cut to the sooner it would be best for all of them.  
  
"Fine, fine! But do not, I repeat do not mention my name when he is out for blood" John conceded as he picked up his end of the larger man.  
  
As they watched the car drive off with Anthea and an unconscious Mycroft, John turned to Sherlock once more.  
  
"You never did say what was the other reason why you are doing this" he said, his voice trailing off for Sherlock to fill in the blanks.  
  
"Mummy and father have been going on and on about wanting grandchildren, and better him than me" he said, a devious grin spreading across his face.  
  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
She warily trudged up the stairs to her flat, glad to finally be home; as she was just about to leave Bart's some emergency came up at the last minute that only she could attend to, and when she finally found the person she was looking for, they had no idea what she was talking about.  
  
Turning the key in the lock, she pushed the door open only to be greeted by mumbling and a constant back and forth thud. Surprised she flicked on the lights and cautiously stepped into her flat. Rounding the sofa, to say she was flabbergasted at the sight that greeted her was an understatement.

Rushing over to him, she dropped her purse by the closed front door and went to kneel down beside his head. She loosened the gag in his mouth as she quickly checked him over for any foul play.

“Mycroft! Are you alright, what happened?!” she exclaimed.

As soon as he was able to be free of the gag in his mouth he growled out “Sherlock! I always knew he was the stupid one”

Spying a small card tied to the ribbon she unfolded it and read it out loud “To Molly ... and Mycroft, Happy Christmas. Wishing you both all the happiness that you deserve”

Molly lowered the card so that it was to his eye level so that he could see as well. His eyes took in the writing on the card and narrowed as he recognized the writing and quickly deduced who possible accomplices could have been, his mind always coming up with many way that he would possible repay this ‘kindness’.

With a tired sigh he let his head fall back and thud against the carpet. A comfortable silence settled over the pair, both lost in thought, thinking about the words written in the card from the people who knew them best.

Unconsciously, Molly began to stroke his hair without even noticing it, however he did and it took all his will power not to purr like a kitten under her touch.

At the sound of him clearing his throat, her eyes widened as she realized what she was doing, and she snatched her hand back as if burned. Turing his head he peered up at her.

“I’m... I’m very sorry about this Molly. My little brother, I’m sure does not mean to be cruel, he just does not understand people, however that does not excuse his behaviour. Please forgive me Molly, I know this is the last thing you need or want ruining your Christmas eve; I know I must be intruding on your plans” he said sullenly, both embarrassed at the situation and saddened at the thought that she would be spending the holiday with someone else but him.

“No!” she exclaimed, interjecting quickly.

“No, really...I can’t think of anything else that I would want to find under my tree for Christmas” she said, her cheeks flaming, but taking courage from the fact that he was bound and in some way vulnerable as well.

A silence stretched between them, until he finally broke it.

“Molly” he breathed, her name falling from his lips reverently.

“I’m not good enough for you Molly, some of the things I’ve done, that I have had no choice to do” he said shaking his head.

“You don’t know me” he continued looking off to the side, not being able to face her and see disgust or repulsion in her eyes.

“All I’m asking is for the chance to; for a chance to get to know you” she said in a pleading tone.

His eyes snapped to hers; his eyes searching her, and whatever he was looking for he found for he replied, “Well who am I to argue with a lady” he said as a shy, small smile spread across his lips.

“Good” she said with a nod of her head and a bashful smile lighting up her face.

“Now that we have come to an ... understanding, my dear would you mind terrible, you know, untying me” he said as she gave a little struggle to emphasize his plight.

Grinning at him, “I think I rather like this look on you” she told him devilishly as she leaned down and pressed an impish kiss to the end of his nose.


End file.
